


She Was Worthy

by DrScullyDuMaurier



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-11
Updated: 2015-08-11
Packaged: 2018-04-14 03:06:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4547841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DrScullyDuMaurier/pseuds/DrScullyDuMaurier
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alana questions Hannibal about his latest drawing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	She Was Worthy

**Author's Note:**

> First story on here! Hope you enjoy!

“This is an interesting piece Hannibal.” Alana says. “It bears a striking resemblance to your previous psychiatrist.” She says with conviction. She stares at the woman’s body displayed before her; every curve, line, dip, sketched perfectly onto the etched paper. 

Nothing was left to the imagination. She lay on her back, draped in what appeared to be silk, her golden locks falling perfectly. Everything about this woman was near perfect, though, Alana could never admit that herself. What struck her the most about the photo was the doctor’s face. Eyes fierce and wide, mouth slightly open, and blood gracing her perfectly plump lips and sharp chin. 

“That is does.” He replies simply. Alana couldn’t help but stare at the drawing for just a moment longer. Something about this woman was so enthralling. 

“It is impressive for the imagination.” She says, trying to draw out information on Dr. Du Maurier’s intimate relationship with her patient.. “Though, I would not expect you to draw a woman you respected so much like this.” She said. “You’re letting everyone see what was yours, you’re sharing Hannibal, not something you’ve been known to do.” 

“It’s not disrespectful to a woman such as Bedelia.” Hannibal says, his tone not changing. “It’s more of an honor.”

“How is that?” Alana asks attempting to not letting her curiosity shine through. Bedelia Du Maurier was a victim. Someone that was put under the same spell as she was. They were alike, or that is what Bedelia led Alana and the others to believe.

“Dr. Du Maurier posses a quality that not many women can obtain. She is bare in that drawing, yes? For many being stripped to their flesh is something that makes them feel vulnerable, or weak. Like they’re being overpowered. Bedelia will never be weak, even in her most vulnerable form. She is a woman of great strength, and power. No matter her state of dress.” Hannibal says. He looks at Alana, waiting for a question, but it doesn’t come. He almost smiles as he thinks about Bedelia. “She is aggressive. She doesn’t like to preyed upon. That’s why she chooses to be the hunter. She is like a lioness. She is patient, and waits for the kill to come to her. It’s an admirable trait.”

“She is a murder, like you?” Alana asks.

“No, she only does this in the figurative sense. She does it with her words, not her actions. She corners you till you have no where to go. Then she’ll strip you down to where you are the most vulnerable, the most afraid. She kills by testing your weakness. She doesn’t have time for the weak.” Hannibal says. Neal proved that.

“I see, and that’s what prompted you to draw her like this? To show that she is not weak? The blood symbolizing what she takes from you.” Alana says. “Your imagination is fierce, and vivid.” 

“Imagination wouldn’t do this image justice.” Hannibal says. Alana looks up to meet Hannibal’s gaze. 

“Then what is this?” She inquires. 

“Memory.” Hannibal says in a soft tone. 

Her lips were red that night. It had been only days after she, technically, killed that awfully rude man from the Caponi. He remembered sitting at the window of their extravagant bedroom recreating the streets while she lay on the bed still bare from their last tryst. He hadn’t been paying attention to her, but he knew she was moving her hand. Possibly using it to discover the dips and curves of her own body. He noticed she did this often. She was in deep thought. Her eyebrow dipping. 

“Will you draw me?” The question came out of the darkness. Her husky voice tired from sex came out almost a whisper. He pondered it for a moment before answering, never looking up from his drawing. 

“I plan to. You are a part of my memory palace.” He replies. She waited a moment, selecting her words he supposed. Bedelia Du Maurier never said a sentence without thinking first. Everything she did was planned and calculated. 

“How will you draw me?” She asks into the night air. He can slightly see her hand moving again. This time making its way up to her throat. 

“I am not sure.” She was a sight. All silhouette. Her fingers at moving down to her chest. “I suppose I’d try to recreate your face. Place it on a recreation of a piece I see fit for you.” He says. Again she waits before saying something. This time she turns onto her side. Her hand moving to the dip of her waist. She was displaying herself before him. 

“Draw me bare.” She says. Her voice in a hushed tone. His eyes moved to meet hers for the first time in their conversation.  
“Fredrick will view all of my drawings, Bedelia. He will take them from me and study them.” He says, reminding her that his privacy will no longer exist. If she wished to be drawn, then she has to know that others will see her. 

“I’m aware Hannibal.” She rolled onto her back once more. Doing what she had been doing before. Her hand moving to her breast. “I want them to see.” She says. “I want them to know I wasn’t afraid of you.” Hannibal stares at her. She was so beautiful. Skin soft, and lips deliciously red. The view of her body tempting. 

“That might be trouble for you, my love.” He says standing and beginning to remove his night clothes. She doesn’t look at him. 

“It won’t be.” She says closing her eyes as he climbs atop of her. She knows what she’s going to do. She won’t be able to fool psychiatrists or Will Graham, or even Jack Crawford for that matter. It was the public; the media, the jury, the people that are aching for a sole survivor of the Chesapeake Ripper that she had to fool. They wanted to see her as the victim, as the one that got away unscathed. 

“Then I will draw you Bedelia. Bathed in a soft light, wrapped in the finest silk, only a look of power in your eyes.” Her confidence shining through her veil of darkness. It was arousing. She wanted him to remember her body. He dipped his head, and kissed her along her collarbone. 

“Good.” She said against his skin before wrapping her fingers across his jaw. She brought his lips to her’s and kissed him violently. She wrapped her legs around him, and he didn’t back down when she bit into his flesh. He didn’t back up when he tasted blood, and felt it smear along their skin. When she finally pulled back he was stunned with her beauty. The red was bright against her fair skin. Her golden locks were placed perfectly. Her chin up, and her eyes dilated and full of arousal. It was a dominating look. A look that any other man would fear. A look only a hunter can posses. 

“How did she escape you, Hannibal?” Alana asked breaking him out of his haze. He took a moment, thinking of his next words. Then he spoke. 

“She was worthy.” Hannibal said.

**Author's Note:**

> Please comment! I love to hear what people think. Hope you enjoyed!


End file.
